Good, Bad and Bloody
by SunflowerSundaes
Summary: Humanized! AU Skipper has led his team through hell and back, fighting demons and monsters while trying to give his nephew a bit of a normal life. These are their adventures: the Good, the Bad, and the Bloody.
1. Prologue: Monsters Simply Don't Exist

Monster's Simply Don't Exist

Prologue

Logically speaking, monsters under a bed were nothing more then a figment of a sugar filled child's imagination. The typical fear caused no worry to anyone, after all, such creatures as monsters and demons, etc., were simply nothing more then fiction, fantasy. But only the ignorant, the naive actually believed that the world wasn't overrun by unexplainable things that hid in the shadows, watching you, thirsting for human blood and souls.

Only few people actually knew of their existence, most were hunters that pleasured themselves in killing them, others seen one or experienced some sort of attack or heard rumors of their existence. Someone who was all too familiar with these bastards was a man that was too young to remember the attacks that were caused on his family, but old enough to do something about it. His name was James, code name, Skipper. He was the country's best hunter, taking down demons left and right like it was as simple as brushing his teeth. But that was mostly thanks to his team and years of military training. And Skipper sure as hell was not ignorant or naïve, for that matter.

He ran a tight shift, leaving no time for breaks or relaxation when he knew they were still out there preying on the innocent. He was a ex-marine by the time he was 26, two years he had been a official hunter, but he's been killing demons before he could count. He was a tall and buff man with a square shaped face and black hair he kept slicked back and out of his sharp blue eyes. He wore his uniform, rarely seen in anything else, which consisted of a black shirt and leather jacket with jeans and combat boots, armed with every sort of weapon known to man.

Despite his short time in the field, he was truly known as a master of the art. His team wasn't any worse, most of his members being weaker than he would have liked in the beginning, but they were like family to him, so it didn't ever cross his mind of finding new members. Kowalski was his second in command, his genius, his brain. He knew every type of demon, some Skipper was sure never existed, but who was he to go against the smart ass? Kowalski didn't go through rigorous training like his captain, but he knew how to defend himself efficiently, thanks to his incredible skills in critical thinking and planning, which more then enough times made up for his lanky, skinny body.

Kowalski was 28, same as the captain. The two had known each other the longest. According to Skipper, the man hadn't changed a bit, and was still the same, narrowed chin and messy haired nerd he had always been. One of the tougher fighters was Skippers weapons expert, Rico, a foul mouthed, Mexican man who suffered a throat injury from a demon attack long ago. His hair was kept in traditional black, per captains orders, but that didn't stop him from occasionally dying different colored streaks in his mohawk once in a while.

Rico was taller then Skipper, but shorter then Kowalski, and was just as muscular as his captain... Although a bit more scarred up. His wide array of tattoos really set him apart as well. He was a bit insane, and a pyromaniac which got them in more trouble then not, but Skipper didn't care. After all, Rico was the only one he knew that could use anything successfully as a killing machine. He was a mysterious man, and the two didn't go back like Skipper and Kowalski did, but Skipper knew him well enough to trust him to have his back in a fight. He only knew that Rico was Mexican, suffered a bad injury, and was one hell of a fighter.

Last was the boy. And it wasn't a nickname, seriously, the kid couldn't be older then 14 at the most. But he was the one that Skipper trusted entirely, even shown a spec of love to the kid, but there was a reason for that, a memory he didn't look too fondly on.

The boy was born small and weak, sure to die in a matter of years, but his parents took good care of him, keeping the secret of demons locked away, with hopes to give him a normal life. Skipper was only 14 at the time, when his nephew, named Seth, was born, and at that moment, he vowed to protect the child from the creatures that took his own family.

But that was short lived. They were attacked again, and the boy was left in his uncle's hands, who wasn't even 18 yet and lost his entire family save for a toddler. This time was different, now that he was 28 and able to defend himself, he would protect his family, and other people's families from the same fate as him.

Even if they were a bit rough around the edges, Skipper knew he wouldn't be able to live without his team.


	2. Chapter 1: Only Safe With My Family

**Chapter One: Only Safe With My Family **

The young teen turned in his half asleep state, the only sounds heard in the room were loud, raspy snores and the occasional murmur, two things that relaxed him when he went to bed. He only felt safe when his comrades were beside him. The small apartment he lived in only housed enough room for probably two residents, but Skipper somehow managed to squeeze in all four of them by crowding two bunk beds in the largest room and Kowalski's lab / weapons in the spare room. So they all were pretty used to having each other's arms and legs in their faces all the time.

But tonight was different, not for any particular reason, the boy just had trouble sleeping. It was probably from the massive amounts of candy he shoved into his mouth when his uncle wasn't around, something he regretted now. Private had a slight knack for his favorite treat, called Peanut Butter Winkies, filled with tons of sugar in a tiny little package.

Not for the massive scolding he would get and extra training, but the fear of things around him, the occasional movement he would catch in the corner of his eye, the noises that didn't belong. Those were things that he knew all too well, starting in his early childhood years, and he knew that once he woke up he would never be able to fall back asleep.

He shuffled out of the bed, Seth "Private" , a nickname he earned from Skipper after being adopted by him, stopping only to look upon his family, who were sleeping peacefully in their bunks. Private had the bottom, his uncle, Skipper on the top, Rico and Kowalski had the other. Skipper made sure his nephew stayed near him and to have a easy escape for the smallest if something bad happened. Rico took the other bottom bunk for he had a habit of twisting and turning on the dinky mattress almost every night due to the horrible nightmares that plagued his past.

The 14 year old dragged a hand through his bedridden black hair that fell over his blue eyes, upset when the locks moved right back into their original places. Private considered what he would do for the next few hours, hoping his team wouldn't awaken to find the teen had gone AWOL and be thrown into a panicked frenzy. He chuckled quietly, remembering Skipper's paranoid fit the last time he had gone on a walk in the middle of the night. Not like he wanted to leave the safety of his home again anyway. It was too risky to go out alone, all by himself. He was well aware of the monsters in the shadows. He knew that they weren't just folk tales parents told their children to scare them into staying in bed.

His small, skinny body fell back on the sofa, sighing in relaxation as he rested against the comfy cushions. Their apartment was full of mix matched and old furniture, but they were well worn and super comfortable. They probably had this couch when Private was first adopted by Skipper, the boy's heart warming immediately from the memory. He truly loved his uncle, knowing the man would always be there for him like a father. He had first known this since Skipper saved him from the monsters that murdered their entire family (save for one lucky uncle). But sometimes, he caught himself missing his real parents. Not that Skipper wasn't good enough or anything, but Private was constantly reminded that this makeshift family would never feel the same as what he once had.

He turned the TV on mute, so he wouldn't wake the others, flipping absently through the shows in a exhausted daze. He settled finally on a Doctor Who rerun. He enjoyed watching the show because it reminded him of his life back in Britain with his parents, but he noticed recently his accent was starting to fade.

The episode soon finished and Private was left with nothing to do, finding nothing else on TV, eyes searching the dim lighted room til they fell upon the world outside, a world separated by protective brick walls. He bit his lip, standing and making his way to the window, hands roaming the cold glass, focused on the bright lights and empty streets of New York City below.

It wouldn't be harmful to go to the park, right? After all, it was early morning and the dark sky was beginning to warm into a light hue. Just for a hour, before Skipper and the others woke. It would be safe and he knew how to defend himself. So it would be fine. Just fine.

The boy fidgeted with his clothes, already regretting his decision as he stumbled down the street to his destination, feeling droplets of water falling on his thin tee shirt and pajama bottoms. His shoes weren't much more appropriate, just ratty old sneakers that didn't even fit, causing his feet to slip and slide in them when he ran. He only kept them because they were too poor to afford much better, Skipper probably had the same boots from his days in the military. At least they were more durable than a old pair of converse.

What a great choice when leaving the house all by yourself, Private mentally scolded himself. What if you are attacked? The boy shook his head, knowing we would only instill paranoia in his head if he kept thinking about uncertain disasters.

But sometimes such paranoia was good, Skipper sure saw it as useful. It saved their butts many times, and the many butts of others. Private never doubted his leader. The boy trusted him more than anyone else in the world. He also knew him better, but Skipper didn't need to know that. He would certainly deny it anyway.

He sat on the wet park bench, shivering as the restless rain came down harder against his paling skin. Private didn't care though, just happy to be out of that stuffy building and able to get some fresh air. he was glad to be free and out in the open in the safety of the cheerful park, his fears soon drifting away. He didn't know how long he had been there for, but a gentle shake on his shoulder woke him up from a world of darkness, and the boy pulled his head away from his knees, uncurling himself from his protective ball.

The rain was no longer coming down, and the sky was a crisp blue. It seemed to be the morning now, far later then he had planned to stay.

The 14 year old's eyes fell upon the person who had come for him in complete confusion, a bit disoriented from being woken up so suddenly, realizing he probably fell asleep.

Private was surprised to see it wasn't Skipper, but in fact, Rico. The man was dressed in a patterned tank top with shorts and boots matching to Skipper's, his black Mohawk flattened from the earlier downpour. Instantly the boy felt guilty. It was obvious that the Weapon's Expert had been searching for a while and only found the kid just a few minutes ago when the rain began to let up.

Private looked anywhere but Rico's worried bluish green eyes, and were fixated on the scar between them. It was a long line that ran from his forehead to his cheek and crossed his the bridge of his nose, something he acquired on the day they had found him. For some reason it relaxed the boy just studying it, maybe because Rico's injuries were the reason he was brought to them.

Speaking of which, Private could see all the other scars and numerous tattoos on the man's body now that he was dressed in a simple tank top. The black hair boy hadn't had a chance to study the older before without seeming weird. And now that he could, his wandering innocent blue eyes spotted things that he had never seen. Like the bullet wound on his shoulder...the massive, deep scar across his chest...

He gulped, Rico's incoherent gibberish pulling the boy away from his thoughts. He could tell that the man had been worried for him, judging from his frantic hand movements and wide eyed expressions. The black hair boy expected the bone crushing hug Rico threw upon him, squeezing the 14 year old's stick like body til he was sure every bone inside of him had been severely damaged.

Rico was more emotional then people would think, he was usually the first to express genuine empathy to the boy instead of anger like Skipper. Kowalski usually kept silent until the two were alone and he could show his soft side without being judged by the others. Private, being good at reading people, figured Rico was just happy and relieved to have "brothers" who loved and cared for him and he never wanted to lose that.

Private sighed, forcing the man away a little so he could look his friend properly in the eyes. "Rico, I'm okay, don't worry." He assured, smiling.

Rico shook his head in a unconvinced manner. "'diot, 'orry us." He scolded, but was too shaky, too sad to feign sternness. Private sighed again, hugging him on his own.

He imagined how frightening it probably was for them to wake up and see their youngest member had suddenly gone missing. He trembled, feeling horrible for going against his gut and leaving the safety of their shared apartment, or HQ as Skipper would call it.

The two made their way back to the apartment, and Private nervously hid his small body behind Rico's muscular arm, which almost entirely covered the kid, as Skipper glared down on him like he stole his favorite mug and almost blew it up. He held back a laugh as he remembered when Rico really did commit such a crime, but Skipper caught his smile before he could hide it. Gritting his teeth, the man crossed his arms as he struggled to contain his anger.

"So, you think this is funny, huh, soldier?" He growled. Private flinched back and shook his head rapidly, but his uncle didn't give him a chance to speak, let alone let the two escape into the apartment. "Private, we need to talk."

Skipper gave Rico a pointed look. Apologetically, the Mohawk man squeezed the boys shoulder (silently wishing him good luck) before entering their home, Kowalski already making breakfast. Private sucked in a breath. This was going to be a long morning.


End file.
